Jerza Love Fest 2016
by wordslinger
Summary: My submissions for the Jerza Love Fest 2016 prompts on tumblr. Jerza.
1. Chapter 1

_**Day One - Hands**_

* * *

When the hands of the clock point south, she rolls over and kisses him awake. Her lips drag over his neck and jaw before settling on his mouth. The fringe of hair that always hangs in her eyes brushes over his face and he smiles. Erza never sleeps completely naked and the lace bust of her nightgown scratches his bare chest. The hem rides up on her thighs when she slides across his hips and Jellal's hands fit perfectly over them.

In the mornings, Erza is always on top.

* * *

The sun is high in the sky when the hands of the clock in his office point directly upward. Most of his afternoons are spent in the Magnolia chapter building of the Magic Council. Residence in the home town of Fairy Tail was his only requirement before agreeing to sit on the Council once more. He couldn't drag Erza away from her home, and he would _not_ live without her.

When she brings his lunch, it's usually a cold sandwich that Mirajane has made. Erza tries but she doesn't have experience in the kitchen like Mirajane and her skills are slow in coming. Hot lunches were quickly ruled out – at least on the days when Erza joins him.

She is heavier than she looks and he's never been more grateful for a life that has made him strong. There is a space between the tall bookshelves that line the walls of his office. This particular space is free of hanging artwork or standing topiary – and that is intentional. Erza's back slides easily against the satin wallpaper. She wraps her legs around his waist and bites her lip. He leaves a complicated design of kisses over the slope of her neck before settling on a spot her currently unbuttoned shirt will cover once righted.

There is certainly something appealing about Erza's naked body, but there's also a very specific pleasure in knowing he doesn't need to strip her down to make her whisper his name and tug painfully on his hair.

In the afternoons, Jellal is always in control.

* * *

He's not much of a drinker even when the hands of the clock send patrons to their barstools. There's the occasional beer or shot of something that Laxus has chosen, but Jellal prefers sobriety. He is, however, _always_ intoxicated by the sight of his wife – pink and fresh from her bath – putting up her hair. It is his preference to already be in bed when she joins him in their room. She leaves her towel on the floor, slides something whisper soft over head to sleep in, and then twists his beloved strands of scarlet into a bun.

The way the skin of her back glows in the moonlight, and the way her well-toned muscles flex under it, leave him more drunk than the darkest bourbon. She doesn't use hair ties or bobby pins as durability isn't the goal.

When she turns around to join him in bed, she smirks.

Erza always takes her time stretching out beside him. She folds her arms under her chin and innocently kicks one leg up. He starts at her ankle and ends at her shoulder. Every inch of her is kissably soft. One hand slides beneath her nightgown to squeeze her hip, and the other releases her hair. She doesn't protest when he tucks one of her knees under her stomach for leverage. Her fingers dig into the sheets and she stretches her arms forward while pressing backward into him.

He has protected her from many things over the years – even himself. There is notable intimacy in the way her back fits against his chest. She trusts him there and Jellal is honored.

At night they are inextricable.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Day Two - Worship**_

* * *

He wasn't religious but he knew faith. Jellal understood higher power. There could be no other explanation for why he was – at the very least – still alive. By all rights he should be dead many times over. Doors had been slamming in his face for most of his life but through a crack in one window, he'd seen beams of light too heavenly to ignore. She welcomed him with an honesty and fullness he didn't think he deserved.

His many layers of dead skin and scales were sliced through and sloughed off. The process hurt but she never let him go. The gentleness with which she handled him amazed him every second of every day. Erza knew every inch of him and he no longer felt ashamed by the shadows. Her light was too bright.

In turn, he absorbed her sadness with ease. He'd gladly take her tears into himself. Purifying Erza's sorrow came as natural to him as the way she took his hand at the first gathering of clouds.

Jellal never felt closer to glory than when they lay tangled together. He didn't fuck her, or have sex with her, or even make love. Jellal _worshipped_ her. Every gasp. Every whisper of his name. Every drop of sweat. Every painful dig of her fingernails into his shoulders. These were as holy as the sliding notes of a hymn. When he whispered her name into the inner swell of her thigh it was nothing short of a prayer. He took her flesh into his mouth as communion and she took him into her body as tithe.

Perhaps it was a sin to equate Erza to a carnal goddess. If he called himself her devotee would it be blasphemous? Jellal didn't think so but every morning on his way into town he visited Kardia Cathedral to light a votive just in case.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Day Three - Pulse**_

* * *

One of the more dangerous parts of running an undocumented, and somewhat illegal guild – besides the actual act of vanquishing of dark magic – was the lack of medical resources. Ultear had been too cavalier to educate herself on the basics of patching up wounds. Meredy was only a child at the onset of Crime Sorciere, and after the trauma of Ultear's failed attempt at suicide it was understandable that she wanted no part in the messy business of blood and ruined flesh. Jellal took on the mantle himself. The juxtaposition of learning how to save the lives of others when every night he gazed up at the stars and pondered his own death did not escape him, but he forced the knowledge into his head anyway.

Some of the information had proved useless and dated but other things stuck with him. For example, there are seven places on the human body where a pulse can be felt and taken. The wrist, neck, knee, groin, elbow, and both the posterior tibial and dorsalis pedis on the foot. It wasn't until the dissolution of Crime Sorciere that he truly became acquainted with _other_ spots that had a very different kind of pulse.

Every part of Erza was perfect. She sometimes complained about various things – even the great Titania had insecurities – but Jellal tried not to let her dwell on them and she was easily distracted. Erza was also very responsive. He never needed to guess if the way he touched or kissed her was pleasing. Her pattern of breath often gave her away.

There was a spot behind her left knee that made her thighs twitch and he could feel each flare of her pulse if he pressed his thumbs in the dip below her knee cap and his fingers behind. Her neck was especially sensitive. If he applied just enough pressure to the underside of her jaw while kissing her in the exact way he knew she liked, he could tabulate every jump of her heart. Instead of kissing her palms or the back of her hand, Jellal preferred her wrists. Brushing his lips over the delicate blue veins just beneath the skin always earned a soft laugh. Before leaving her every morning for a day of boring paperwork he liked to wrap his hand around her elbow and tug her against his chest. It was a point of pride to make her heart race even in the simple act of saying good morning. He learned early on that Erza was far too ticklish and touching her feet never ended well.

Jellal never bothered with subtlety when he went for the last spot his self-education had taught him. He could easily reach it anytime his hand was between her legs. Jellal couldn't quite make up his mind which was his favorite. Her knees or the crease between her leg and pelvis. Both were equally appealing – even if for completely different reasons.

The day – or morning, really – he discovered what he called _secondary pulse_ , Jellal laughed. It wasn't a particularly profound medical discovery but it was something that he felt privileged to know. He could still feel her clenching around his fingers, and his lips were still leaving kisses over the warm, _pulsating_ folds of wet sensitive skin between her thighs when Erza grasped a handful of his hair.

"What are you laughing about?" she asked, leaning back against the bathroom mirror. The air was thick with steam from the shower they hadn't manage to take yet. Jellal stood and pulled her to the very edge of the counter.

"It's nothing," he whispered, taking her lips in a kiss and hitching her thighs around his waist. Erza looped her arms around his shoulders and held on as he swiftly lifted her against him before stepping into the spray of warm water.

"It's _something._ " Erza's hand slid from his shoulders. Her fingers wrapped around his erection, and she squeezed. "Tell me," she breathed over the side of his neck. The swipe of her thumb over the head of his cock, and her intentionally slow strokes prevented him from speaking at all. "Are we keeping secrets now?"

Erza's thighs were strong enough to support most of her weight if he kept her firmly against the shower tiles. Jellal grabbed her wrist and pinned it above her head. She smiled and didn't take her eyes off him as his hand fell to cup the underside of one breast. Her nipple tightened when he drew a slow circle around it with a fingertip.

"It isn't a secret," he said when he finally drove inside of her. Erza's chest rose beautifully and her nipple disappeared against his chest. "Just an observation." She said nothing more as his hips steadily thrust against hers. The hot water wouldn't last much longer.

"Help me," she finally gasped and lightly twisted her wrist. In a well practiced motion, Jellal's thumb circled her until she was writhing against him. She swallowed his incoherent groans against her mouth and finally loosened the vise-like grip around his waist.

Jellal released her wrist and she surprised him by dragging her finger through the trail of short hairs just below his naval and stopping in the space between his leg and now softened member. Erza bit her lip and pressed a kiss to his jaw.

"I can take your pulse, too," she whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Day Four - Secret**_

* * *

He wasn't a partier but _she_ was. As much as Erza liked to complain about the immaturity of her guildmates, her irritation was feigned. Jellal knew she enjoyed blowing off steam and he wouldn't take that away from her. He also knew that her nightcap would be his alone. Erza always managed to save enough energy just for him and judging by the way she currently grinned at him from across the room, he didn't think the night would last much longer.

She polished off her bottle and disappeared down the hallway that lead to the restrooms. Jellal waited several long moments for her return but she never reappeared. With a sigh, he tossed back the last of his drink and left the crowded hall behind to find his wife. The passage was dimly lit and painted with shadows.

"I knew you'd come find me," a voice whispered. He didn't protest when Erza pushed him into closet full of clean bar towels and spare mop heads. "You're so predictable sometimes."

"Is that a bad thing?" he asked.

"Is it a bad thing to know with absolute certainty that you'll come find me when disappear?" Erza's red lips slid into a grin. Her eyes were clear and he thought maybe he'd been wrong about how much she'd had to drink. "No, that's not a bad thing, Jellal. In fact, I was counting on it."

Jellal's hands found her hips and he relaxed into the wall. She kissed his neck, jaw, and cheek before leaning up to whisper in his ear.

"I do think, though, that it's a good time for some spontaneity."

"In this closet?"

"Yes, Jellal, in this closet." She bit her bottom lip as her fingers dropped to the buckle of his belt. "It can be our little secret."

"Erza –" She pressed her finger to his lips and smiled. Nimbly, she released his belt and slipped a hand inside his pants. Her strokes were deliberate and even, and never once did her eyes leave his.

"I've been thinking about this all night," she breathed, using her free hand to push his shirt up around his stomach. Before he could do anything about it, Erza dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth.

"Ah, Erza –" Jellal felt like a broken record but her fingernails dug lightly into his torso. Her message was unmistakable and he let his head fall back against the wall. Normally Jellal preferred to watch her go down but the dim light from the hallway wasn't enough to see much anyway.

He felt her tongue travel the length of his cock and her lips close around the very tip. Jellal's fingers slid through her hair before gathering a handful of scarlet. Her fingernails flexed on his stomach in warning and his lips twitched into a lazy grin. Erza would suck him off with a practiced skill and swallow every drop, but if he pulled her hair or moved his hips she would leave him cold, hard, and wanting. The task of staying still in the heat of ecstasy was difficult but they _both_ knew how much he enjoyed the challenge.

Another fact known to the both of them, was Jellal's hair trigger. He could draw out sex and hold off on finishing like a champ but when Erza had her mouth on him, he didn't have much control. When she pulled him all the way in and he nudged the back of her throat, her fingernails slid from his torso to the back of his thigh – and she dug in. With a twinge of pain and a surge of pleasure, Jellal felt her throat bob against his throbbing erection. She released him with a pop and he dragged her to her feet before she had the chance to wipe her own mouth.

Jellal swiped his thumb over her bottom lip and finally tightened his hand in her hair. She groaned into his mouth when he kissed her and tugged on the fabric of his shirt.

"Let's go home," he whispered against her lips. "I think I'm hungry."


End file.
